Can't Let Go of You
by oceanwaters2006
Summary: Fred died in the war, but can Hermione let him go? Or will the imprint of what Fred left behind destroy her too?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N It's been a while since I've written HP fanfiction but I miss it and my huge love of Hermione and the Weasley Twins, mostly Fred, together. So, I've written something new...and the old stuff will slowly make it's way back up as I edit and go through it all again. Hope you enjoy._

Rain was trailing down the window outside but Hermione couldn't really have cared less. Counting the number of times the sun had risen and fallen, she was confident she'd been in the same chair for three days at least. It didn't matter. Nothing did. Not the rain, not the fact that Voldemort was dead, not all the celebrating...

Fred was gone.

She had sat on the Great Hall floor for hours after Voldemort fell, silently willing Fred to wake up. He didn't. Today was supposed to be his funeral. Fitting that it should pour the rain down. Hermione couldn't remember a day she had ever felt more dead or hopeless. Even the months she spent with Harry and Ron hunting down the bits and pieces of Voldemort's soul hadn't seen her in such a mood as she was now.

"Hermione."

She winced at the voice that was so close to his, however the tone was off. Fred's voice had never sounded flat and hollow.

"George," she returned, only her voice barely sounded from a dry throat.

Low steps sounded behind her until they were close and stopped, a freckled hand holding an envelope in front of her. "I found this."

She reached for the sealed envelope without thought and shortly after taking it, George turned around and left, closing the door quietly behind him. Staring down at her neatly printed name on the front for several minutes she wondered if she had really cried herself dry. There was only one person it could be from if George was the one bringing it to her.

Her hands shaking, she pulled the envelope open slowly and slid the folded up parchment out like she was handling a sensitive stink bomb. As the parchment left its confines the slightest draft wafted up to her face and she caught his scent which made her throat tighten. The parchment fell in her lap as it slipped from her fingers and after a few minutes of fumbling she finally got it opened and straightened out. Inside was Fred's awful handwriting that she would never forget.

_Hermione,_

_I really hope you never have to see this. I hope when the war is over I can burn this and take you to the nearest party to celebrate. But, sitting here in my apartment after working on another new invention that has once again left me without eyebrows (yes, really, I know you could fix them but I say it's character building) while you're out helping Harry and whatnot, I got to thinking...there's other things I hope for you too...even if I can't be with you._

_Four years and no one but you and I and...George (I know, I'm sorry...you knew he'd know before long) know about you and me. It's funny that three months ago I gave you a ring you can't even wear yet. Maybe I should have waited...but I couldn't, you know patience and I don't get along. Anyway, our track record is pretty good, and you should know now, since I can't be there to tell my family and bring yours back with you, that it's been a secret I've kept with extreme difficulty. I wish I could've been able to tell the world that I'm the one who knows everything about you. I know how to make you laugh, what makes you angry, when you're afraid and don't want to let it show._

_Hermione, I hope, more than anything, that you don't let me be the last person to experience the wonder that is you. You are not alone and I hope you don't make yourself that way. Your friends will always be there, my family will do all that they can. They all love you, Hermione. And wherever I am now, I'm with you, even if you can't hear me or see me, I'll always be that annoying voice in the back of your head telling you to lighten up and smile because your eyes shine when you do. I'll always be the sun shining on your face._

_Live a full, amazing, and happy life._

_Love always,_

_Fred_

Hermione felt numb. She had thought perhaps upon reading it that she'd feel something but there was nothing left. The sun wasn't shining and there was no reason to smile. How could he think just leaving her a little letter would make everything okay if he wasn't there?

Now it was time for responsibility, she'd have to get up, shower, get dressed and make an appearance at his funeral. Tossing the letter aside she pulled herself up from the chair, stiff and sore from her prolonged time in it and methodically showered and dressed in the outfit someone had laid in her room yesterday. Several knocks on the door asked if she was okay but she didn't answer and so far everyone had been smart enough not to come inside.

Until Ron, that is...

"Hermione? It's almost time to..." He stopped mid sentence when Hermione turned a vicious glare on him. "Okay," he finished.

He watched with concern for a minute before braving moving forward to sit beside her on the bed and put an arm around her shoulders. "You know, Hermione, Fred wouldn't want everyone to be so upset. He'd probably make fun of us all if he saw..."

"What would you bloody well know about what he wants?" Hermione snapped, shaking Ron's arm off from around her shoulders.

He blinked like she'd slapped him. "Hermione, he...he was my brother and I think...where did that come from?" Ron said, his eyes narrowing on her left hand as he noticed what was occupying her attention.

"Fred," she responded without emotion. "He gave it to me almost a year ago, so when the war was over we wouldn't have to waste any time. Now he's gone, and you need to get out."

Ron's jaw flapped. "You and Fred were...together?"

"Four years."

"But..." Ron said, trying to process the new information.

"Just get out, Ron," Hermione replied, her voice deadpan.

Ron hesitated to fill her request, taking a few moments and looking several times more like he was going to ask a question, though wisely did not. Finally the door closed behind him and Hermione turned her attention back to the ring on her finger. She remembered the day he'd given it to her. They'd snuck out for a walk when everyone else was otherwise occupied. The sun had been brilliant that day and the stone had sparkled from every angle.

Now, in the dim light as the rain poured down, the stone looked as lifeless as Fred was. Hermione stared at it blankly for several minutes before she headed out of her room to bury her heart under the ground.

_End note: Will this be a happy or sad story? Well...that's for me to know and you to find out. :) _


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N I decided on this POV at the last minute, I hadn't originally intended to have George POV, but it felt right...so I went with it. _

It was cold.

That was the only thought in George's otherwise empty and quiet mind. It was confusing and disorienting. All his life his mind had run at a hundred miles an hour with the constant awareness of what was going on with Fred and hundreds of ideas bouncing around his thoughts. Not now.

Someone had offered George shelter under the huddles of umbrellas but he'd neither responded or even acknowledged that he'd even heard them. Water dripped off the tip of his nose and slicked down his hair as the rain poured down as some wizard gave a speech about the great life Fred had.

George didn't listen, couldn't really. He'd never realized just how much he and his twin had been in sync. Without Fred around it was like he didn't even know how to go about his day. He didn't know how to communicate with people, he couldn't even voice his own thoughts as he had none. His mind was numbingly blank.

He stared at the casket in front of him, wondering how he was expected to continue to go about his life. He'd heard the whispers, that eventually he'd be okay and be back to normal. But those people didn't understand, his normal was having Fred there every day. Those people didn't understand, he hadn't just lost a brother, perhaps if he had he would eventually move on a be okay. But Fred wasn't just a brother, Fred was...his twin. He couldn't even explain it, he just knew it wasn't the same.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Hermione standing at the back of the crowd, rain dripping down over her as she stared blankly at the pine box. She might possibly be the only other one here who understood exactly how George felt. It was never his place to tell anyone about Fred and Hermione but he'd known. When things were going great, Hermione would tell George all about it and so would Fred. When they were furious at each other he'd hear from both of them too. Now, he realized, he'd not only lost his brother but without Fred there, would Hermione even want to speak to him anymore? He doubted it, he couldn't even bear to look in a mirror anymore.

Hermione blinked and looked up at George and where he'd expected to see an emptiness to rival his own, he saw barely contained rage brewing in her eyes. He vaguely wondered if she had heard a word the wizard speaking had said and if that was the reason behind her anger but for the life of him he couldn't try and make himself listen.

He also couldn't tell if the water running down her face was from the rain or tears but before he had a chance to contemplate it further, she glared back at the casket and marched forward, pushing through people til she reached the casket and in a move that shocked even the speaking wizard into silence, she kicked the box and fell beside it in the mud, slamming her fist on the lid.

"How could you!" she screamed like the pine was going to answer her. "You promised me!" Her forehead fell on her arms that were crossed over the top of the lid and her whole body started shaking.

People started muttering around him and George saw his mother start to move forward but he grabbed her arm and held her back before stepping forward himself. He kneeled down beside Hermione, avoiding touching the casket with difficulty before he noticed she was muttering under her breath.

"You promised...you promised you wouldn't leave me alone... I kept my end of the deal...you're not being fair..."

George reached a hand forward like he was going to pat her on the back but the gesture felt awkward so he let his hand fall to his side. "Hermione," he said, like he had something more to say but he didn't, really.

"Don't even try to defend him, George, he lied to you too," Hermione said harshly, pounding her fist on the top of the wood again.

George was at a loss and without realizing it, the rest of the crowd had creeped up on them, Molly trying to figure out what was going on, why Hermione was taking this so hard. "Four years you promised me everything and now you've left me here with nothing, Fred," Hermione further accused a box that couldn't answer her back.

"Four years... Fred..." Molly sputtered, her red eyes looking confused.

"Apparently they were together for four years," Ron said, his voice cold and his expression slightly angry as he looked over his mother's shoulder. "Engaged too, by the looks of it."

George caught Hermione's fist tighten where he saw the ring Fred had picked out for her glittering dully in the dull light of the overcast day. Renewed whispers spread through the crowd as George's mum and dad's mouths moved up and down but no words came out. George stared at the ring for a few moments, his annoyance with Fred trying to pick it out making the corners of his mouth twitch up at the memory. George had suggested after a month of listening to Fred's jabbering about the whole thing that he just get her one out of the coin machine because it wouldn't matter to her, if it was from Fred she'd love it even if it was made of cardboard.

"Well, not anymore," Hermione said, sitting up suddenly and pulling the ring off her finger and throwing it in the mud. Molly tried to stop her but Hermione pulled out her wand, glaring at the crowd behind her before she apparated away.

George could hear the people talking around him and was vaguely aware that his mum was demanding to know what was going on but he didn't care. He reached down in the mud and pulled out the ring that Hermione had thrown down.

Almost like a nagging voice in the back of his head that had been absent for days, George knew he couldn't leave Hermione like this. He had to make it right. He owed Fred that, at least. Ignoring the hundreds of questioning voices around him, George stood slowly, mud dripping off of him as he thought over where Hermione might have gone. It might be a long search, but he'd find her.

The last words in Fred's letter to George had assured that.

_Lastly, I'm asking as my brother and my best friend, if Hermione makes it (and I'm accepting nothing other than the fact that she will), please watch out for her. Don't let her give up. Don't let her stop smiling..._

_A/N - *sigh* It makes me sad to write Fred's letters. *sniffs* _


End file.
